“If anyone is in Christ, the new creation has come: The old has gone, the new is here!”
The other day, something happened at home that stayed with me longer than I expected. For a few weeks now, my husband Ed has kept saying, “I need to go to the eye doctor. I need new glasses.” Now, this man has several pairs of glasses, and somehow he keeps losing them. One day at work, he forgot the pair he needed, so he started asking around, trying on other people’s glasses. One after another, nothing worked until finally someone handed him a pair that fit his eyes just right. He said, “Oh my God… everything is so clear.” He started noticing details he had not seen before, lines in people’s faces and things far away that used to look like a blur. A whole world that had been there all along, but he just could not see it. Same place, same people, same world, but different sight.

As I listened to him talk, I could not help but think how easy it is to get used to seeing things the wrong way. We adjust to what is blurry. We learn to function without clarity. We stop questioning what we cannot quite make out. Until a moment of clarity reminds us of what we were missing.

That is what happened after the resurrection. Jesus was right there, alive and present, yet people still missed him. Mary thought he was a gardener until he called her name. The disciples on the road thought he was just another traveler until he broke bread with them. Saul thought he was doing God a favor until a light stopped him and restored his sight. It was not that Jesus was hidden. It was that their eyes had not yet caught up.

And I wonder how often we walk through our days like that, seeing but not really seeing, looking at people through old assumptions, looking at ourselves through outdated stories, settling for a blurry version of what God is trying to reveal. When Paul says that if anyone is in Christ, they are a new creation, he is not speaking in theory. He is talking about a real shift, one that does not always change your surroundings right away but changes how you perceive what is right in front of you.

We have declared things finished that God is still working on. We have defined people by their past when God is shaping their future. We have even doubted what God is doing in us.
But once our eyes open, once we begin to see through the lens of Christ, something shifts deep within us. We begin to notice grace where we once saw failure. We begin to see possibility where we once saw limits. We begin to recognize that God has been at work all along, even in places we had already dismissed. There was more there than we realized. We just did not have the clarity to recognize it. So here is the question I want you to sit with today. What are you missing because your vision has not been renewed? Who have you already made up your mind about? What situation have you labeled as stuck? What part of your own life have you quietly given up on?

Maybe it is not that nothing is changing. Maybe we need new eyes. Sometimes the problem is not what we are looking at but how we are seeing it. So ask God for that. No need for a loud prayer or a perfect one, just an honest one. Lord, help me to see again, clearly.

Prayer: God, give us new eyes. Help us see what you are doing, even when it is not obvious. Teach us to trust that you are still making all things new. Amen.

By Rev. Kay Dubuisson

Colossians 3:17

Next month will mark the 16th year since I retired from parish ministry. It was not because I was too old, or ineffective in doing what I was tasked to do as a Pastor. In fact, I retired much prematurely per United Methodism standards. Very often people are afraid to retire because they do not know what they are going to do when the usual daily activities are no longer required of them. You will often hear the words “what am I going to do? I will go crazy.” To all of you out there pondering how you are going to survive the idleness of retirement, understand that it boils down to one main point, and my advice to you is this: LIVE WITH PURPOSE. Let us take a moment to meditate on this.

The life of the Apostle Paul gives us a wonderful example. After encountering the resurrected Christ on the Road to Damascus, Paul spent the rest of his life proclaiming the good news of the Gospel everywhere he goes. Despite being beaten, stoned, shipwrecked, and imprisoned, Paul kept his focus on preaching Christ. He summed it all up in this verse from Philippians 1:21: “For to me, living means opportunities for Christ, and dying – well, that’s better yet!”

To those who do not believe in God, life on earth is all there is, and so it is natural for them to strive for the things that this world values: money, popularity, power, and prestige. For Paul however, life meant developing eternal values and telling others about Christ, who alone can help us see life from an eternal perspective. Paul’s whole purpose in life was to speak out boldly for Christ and to become more like Him. Once you know your eternal purpose, then you are free to serve – devoting your life to what really counts without fear of dying.
Retirement usually provides more free time, so it’s important to reflect on our priorities and then use the extra time wisely. But that guidance is not only for retirement; our goal should be to live with purpose no matter how old we are or in what stage of life we find ourselves. As followers of Jesus, our purpose should be focused on living for Him. Again Paul sums it up well: “Christ died for all, that those who live should no longer live for themselves but for Him who died for them and was raised again.” (2 Cor. 5:15)
 
In 2010 when I retired from the pulpit after visiting Haiti following the January 12th earthquake, I had a clear purpose: to go back and be God’s voice, God’s hands, and God’s feet to a battered and hopeless people. And, I felt in my heart that I could not fully satisfy that purpose, and at the same time remain in parish ministry. My life and the life of the people had become one and my only purpose was to let them know that despite their desperate conditions, that God still loves them, and that my very presence with them was a testimony to that love. That is the main purpose of my life, to the glory of God.  
 
Sunday, I was the speaker for the St. Mark’s Men Ministry Day. I preached on the theme: “go and be a witness, go and make a difference.” In John 20: 21-22, 50 days before Pentecost when tongues of fire of the Holy Spirit would fall on the disciples, Jesus told them “As the Father sent me, I am sending you,” then he breathed on them and said “receive the Holy Spirit.” And again, in Matthew 28: 16-20 He gave them the Great Commission charging them to “Go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey all I commended you.”
 
Just like Paul we have an eternal purpose: to proclaim the good news of the Gospel, in word and in deeds; an eternal purpose to Go, and make a difference in the world. “We are the salt of the earth called to let people see. We are the light of the world not to be hidden but be seen. We are the hands of Christ reaching out for those in need. We are the face of God for all to see. We are the spirit of hope; we are the voice of peace. So, we ought to let our love shine for all to see.” We ought to go and make a difference in the world.

We live with purpose when we follow the way of Jesus.
 
Let us pray.  Dear God, we praise you and we thank you for all that you are doing in our lives. You call us to live a life with eternal purpose. It is not easy as we deal with our own shortcomings, our own fears and doubts; our own weaknesses and challenges. But we know that with you all things are possible. So, God help us and guide us by the power of your Holy Spirit, inspire us and empower us to keep our focus on living for you – through witness, service, and worship. May we bring glory to your name by living as courageous followers of Christ, in whose name we pray. Amen and Amen.

Written Rev. Franck Aguilh

I was all alone in the house with my thoughts last Wednesday, sitting behind my desk remembering about our son Philip. You see, last Wednesday, March 11, was his birthday. He would have been 42 years old were it not for the untimely drowning accident that took him away from us on March 27, 2004, just sixteen days after his 20th birthday. He was a Sophomore at the George Washington University working toward an MBA/Finance degree.

In that vulnerable moment, like many of us Christians, I must confess, that my doubtful heart was struggling against the truth that lives in my head. I know that God is good. I know that God is able. I know that God loves me, that He loves my family, my wife and our children. So, why did this terrible thing happen? Why such a promising young man, smart, respectful, humble, a young man not shy to share with the less fortunate whatever it is that he has, even his knowledge, had to be taken away from us in such a way?

As I pondered this tempest that his passing was, I remembered another storm, a fierce one some 2000 years ago on the Sea of Galilee which is described in the scripture above. I realized that it is not just about a storm, but really about a journey of trust. Jesus’ presence with the disciples did not prevent the storm from engulfing them. So, it is not surprising that they would be frightened to the point of questioning whether or not Jesus cared, just as in fact I was doing. “Master,” they asked “Don’t you care if we drown?”

You see, storms may cause us to question God’s care for us. We pray for healing, protection, and restoration – for the storm to pass. One of my favorites Psalms is Psalm 57, and verse 1 is my choice verse: “Have mercy on me, O God, have mercy on me, O God, have mercy on me for in you my soul takes refuge. I WILL TAKE REFUGE IN THE SHADOW OF YOUR WINGS UNTIL THE DISASTER HAS PASSED.”

It is not wrong to pray that way. But, we must learn to value God’s presence in our trials more than we value respite from them. Jesus calmed the storm on the Sea of Galilee but, sometimes for whatever reason only known to Him in His Omniscience, God does not calm certain storms in our lives, but He guides us through them. When doubt arises, we can remember that Jesus is with us in the storms of our lives.

Let us pray.  Dear God, we praise you; all glory and honor are yours. We thank you for your faithfulness. We thank you for being true to your promise never to leave us or forsake us. Help us to trust you especially during the storms of our lives. Help us to remember that you are always with us, no matter what storm we face. In the matchless name of Jesus we pray. Amen and Amen.

Written by Rev. Franck Aguilh

Life has a way of feeling like a long race. Some mornings, we wake up ready to move with strength and hope. Other days, we feel out of breath before we even begin. Yet the Apostle Paul reminds us that faith is not meant to drift. Faith is meant to move. He invites us to run in such a way that our lives reflect purpose, direction, and holy determination.

When we think about athletes, we see discipline in action. A runner does not simply show up on race day and expect to win. There are early mornings. There are sore muscles. There are sacrifices that no one else sees. Training shapes stamina. Rest restores strength. Proper nourishment fuels the body. Every step prepares them for the finish line.

In the same way, our spiritual lives require preparation. This becomes our transition from physical training to spiritual formation. The race of faith calls for daily habits that build inner strength. Prayer becomes our stretching. Scripture becomes our nourishment. Worship becomes our breathing room. Service becomes the practice that stretches our compassion and deepens our purpose.

Now here is the truth we must face. We are living in a season where many voices compete for our time. Our calendars fill quickly. Our phones never seem to rest. Even good opportunities can slowly pull us away from the quiet spaces where God speaks. We can become busy doing many things and still feel spiritually weak. This is why Paul’s words matter so deeply. He is not only talking about effort. He is talking about focus. He is calling us to run with intention.

And this leads us to the heart of the devotion. Winning the prize in Christ is not about being better than someone else. It is about becoming more faithful than we were yesterday. It is about choosing consistency over convenience. It is about trusting that the small disciplines of today shape the spiritual victories of tomorrow. The crown God promises is not temporary recognition. It is a lasting transformation. It is the joy of walking with God. It is the peace that steadies us when life feels uncertain. It is the hope that carries us beyond what we can see.

So, this week becomes another starting line. Another opportunity to reset our pace. Another chance to release distractions that weigh us down. We may not run perfectly. We may stumble along the way. Yet grace reminds us to keep moving. Step by step. Prayer by prayer. Choice by choice. With every faithful stride, we draw closer to the finish line God has prepared for us.

Pray with me: Heavenly Father, quiet the noise that competes for our attention. Teach us the discipline to seek you first through prayer and your Word. Strengthen our hearts so we may run this race with endurance and grow into the maturity you desire for us. In Jesus’ name, Amen.

Reflection Question: What is one distraction you will lay aside this week so that you can run your spiritual race with greater focus and maturity in Christ?

Written By Rev. Kay Dubuisson

“Even though I walk through the darkest valley, I will fear no evil, for you are with me.” — Psalm 23:4

If you live long enough, you learn that faith is not only about where God is taking you. Much of faith is about how God keeps you while you are on the way. The road of life does not always move in straight lines. Some days feel like green pastures and still waters. Other days feel like valleys where the light seems dim, and the path feels uncertain.
Psalm 23 speaks honestly about that journey. David writes this psalm as someone who has seen many seasons. As a young boy, he worked as a shepherd, guiding sheep to safe grass and fresh water. Later, he became a king who had to remain watchful because enemies surrounded him. By the time he reflects on his life in this psalm, he understands something deeply. Through every season, God has been guiding him like a faithful shepherd.

That is why the psalm begins with a simple confession: “The Lord is my shepherd.” A shepherd does more than lead from a distance. A shepherd walks with the flock, protects them from danger, and searches when one wanders away. David knew that work well. He had defended sheep against lions and bears. So, when he calls God his shepherd, he is saying that his life has been held and protected by God’s steady care.

Yet David does not pretend the journey has always been easy. In the middle of the psalm, he speaks about “the darkest valley.” Shepherds in ancient Israel often had to guide sheep through narrow ravines where predators could hide in the shadows. These valleys were dangerous places. But they were also necessary paths that led to better pastures beyond.
The powerful word in this verse is through. David does not say we should avoid valleys. He does not say trouble never comes. He says we walk through it.

That small word carries great hope. Valleys are not places where we remain forever. They are places we move through. The journey may be difficult, but it is not the final destination.
The promise that gives David courage is God's presence. “You are with me.” Notice how the language changes here. Earlier, David talks about God. But in the valley, he speaks directly to God. When life grows heavy, faith becomes more personal. We do not simply talk about God. We lean on God.

And then the psalm turns toward abundance. Even in the presence of enemies, God prepares a table and pours out blessings until the cup runs over. The message is clear. God’s goodness is not limited by our circumstances. David closes the psalm with a quiet confidence: “Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life.” In other words, God’s grace keeps showing up along the road, even when we do not expect it.
The journey of faith may include valleys, but the Shepherd never leaves the flock. Step by step, he leads us forward. And one day the journey ends where it began, in the presence of the One who has walked with us the whole way.
Reflection: Where in your life do you need to trust that God is walking with you through the valley?

Prayer: Faithful Shepherd, guide us through every season of life. When the road feels dark and the journey feels long, remind us that you are near. Give us the courage to keep walking and the faith to trust your presence. Lead us safely through the valleys and into the peace of your care. Amen.

Written by Rev. Kay Dubuisson
 

The Roman philosopher Seneca once wrote, “Difficulties strengthen the mind as labor strengthens the body.” Though he was a Roman philosopher, far removed from the world of ancient Israel, his observation rings with a truth the Bible affirms again and again: God allows challenges, not to break us, but to form us, mature us, and draw us closer to his heart.

In scripture, trials are never meaningless. James 1: 2-4 teaches us to “consider it pure joy whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance.” This passage echoes Seneca's insight, almost directly. Just as physical exercise tears down muscles so they can rebuild stronger, spiritual and emotional struggles stretch our faith so that it can grow firmer and more resilient. God does not delight in our hardships, but He faithfully uses them as tools to cultivate Christlike character within us.

We see this beautiful example in the life of Joseph. Betrayed by his brothers, sold into slavery, and unjustly imprisoned, Joseph suffered years of painful difficulty. Yet every trial deepened his wisdom, refined his integrity, and strengthened his trust in God. By the time he rose to power in Egypt, he could look back and say with a peaceful heart, “God intended it for good.” His suffering became the fertile ground in which God planted strength, compassion, and discernment.

The apostle Paul also understood this truth intimately. In Romans 5:2-4, he writes that “Through him we have also obtained access by faith into this grace in which we stand, and we rejoice in hope of the glory of God. Not only that, but we rejoice i  not only that but we rejoice in our suffering, knowing that suffering produces endurance , and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not put us to shame because God‘s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit, who has been given to us.” With glory in our suffering we can overcome it because suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character hope.” This model is there for every believer to follow. Hardship pushes us to rely on God in ways comfort never will. Difficulty becomes the playground of the soul, where faith is exercise, patience a stretch, and hope grows steady and strong.

Even Jesus, our perfect redeemer, faced trials. Hebrews 5:8 says that he learned obedience from what he suffered.“ If the son of God himself experienced strengthening through trials and hardship, then we can trust that our difficulties are held within the loving purposes of God.

As we have entered the season of Lent we are reminded of the profound personal sacrifices that Jesus made in those 40 days and nights in the desert. He suffered the effects of extreme fasting, physical exposures, isolation, and intense spiritual warfare. He voluntarily endured hunger and weakness, refusing to use his divine power to alleviate his suffering, thereby modeling reliance on God, the father.

So when challenges arise, instead of asking only “Why is this happening?” We can also ask, “What might God be working for me through this?” Every struggle becomes an invitation to grow more steadfast, compassionate, and dependent on him.

And through it all, we are never alone. God walks with us, strengthens us, and shapes us lovingly, until our lives reflect the quiet, steady endurance that Jesus modeled even on the cross at Calvary.
Amen

Let us Pray
Lord Jesus, as we move deeper into this Lenten season, help us to follow your examples of humility, cleanse our hearts of selfish desires, and strengthen our resolve to serve those around us. Teach us to take up or cross daily and walk in your light.
Amen.

Written by Gregory Harewood

Every Saturday morning, I take part in a Bible study. Last Saturday, our scripture was Mat.5:13-20. “You are the light of the world”, Jesus said. He continued by saying: “A city on a hill cannot be hidden. Neither do people light a lamp and put it under a bowl. Instead, they put it on its stand, and it gives light to everyone in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before men, that they may see your good deeds and praise your father in heaven.” One of the questions upon which we pondered was this:  If we lose the light, what will happen?  I invite you to meditate with me on this question.

In John 1:4 we read: “In Him was life, and that life was the Light of men. So, what will happen if we lose our light?

In verse 5 of Matthew 5, Jesus is quoted as saying “People do not light a lamp and put it under a bowl.”  That should be obvious someone may say; why would someone light a lamp and put it under a bowl? What purpose will it serve under the bowl? However, often enough that is what many of us do, if not in actuality (God forbids) but in the way we live our lives.

As we discussed this question, my mind kept going back to the former president Ronald Reagan and one of his popular sayings depicting the United States of America as the “shining city on the hill”. Unfortunately, nobody with an iota of common sense, would say that today’s USA comes even close to Reagan’s “shining city on the hill”, whether we look at it from the national or the international point of view. She is no longer the place people looked to in today’s messy world when facing the many challenges in their daily lives. No, we cannot hide a city that is sitting on top of a hill. Its lights at night can be seen for miles. So it is with us if we live for Christ; we will glow like lights, showing others what Christ is like. In Micah 6:8, the question is asked “What does the Lord require of you?” “To act justly, to love mercy, and to walk humbly with God” is the answer.

However, in many respects we do hide our light every day. We hide our light when we say nothing and do nothing against blatant injustice that we witness every day; we hide our light when we go along with the crowd; we hide our light when we deny the Light by our words and our deeds, we hide our light when we fail to explain to, and share the Light with, others; we hide our light when we ignore the plight of others. We are called to be beacons of truth and our light cannot be, should not be hidden. We are called to be light agents empowered to shine in the darkness of our world.

What happens when we hide the Light? Darkness takes over. Donald Trump and his minions take over, Vladimir Poutin takes over, Benjamin Netanyahu takes over, ICE takes over, and even worse, people who should know better begin to normalize the hate that grows in the darkness, begin to rationalize the brutality, to justify the racism and the dehumanization, even the murder, inherent in the darkness.

Everywhere we look, the world is a mess. Not a day goes by without learning about a crisis somewhere, even right here in the USA, the agents of darkness are fully active.
But in John 1:5 we read: “The Light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.” To overcome the darkness in the world, all of us must hold fast to Christ’s Light. Love like He loved, give like He gave, care like He cared, forgive like He forgave.

Let us pray.  Gracious and Holy God, we praise and glorify your name. We thank you for all your blessings and all your favors, past present and yet to come. Forgive us Lord when we fall short of your expectations. Help us dear Lord to always seek your Light, cling to your Light, and radiate your Light in all circumstances in our lives and the lives of our fellow travelers on this terrestrial journey. In the mighty name of Jesus, the Christ, we pray.  Amen and Amen.

Written by Rev. Franck Aguilh

Inspired by Rev. Dubuisson’s “SEASON OF REST” preaching series, I have been spending some time thinking about the meaning of REST for the believer. One thing that becomes clear is that looking at REST in the spiritual realm is quite different from looking at it in just the physical realm, even though that is usually where we start.

Browsing through the Bible, we first find REST in the book of Genesis, in chapter 2:2 when “God rested from all His work on the seventh day”. That is where we got the familiar command to rest on Sabbath day. It has evolved from Saturday to Sunday, but regardless whether we observe it on Saturday or Sunday, it is “a day of rest”. Through most of the books in the Bible, from Genesis until Revelation, the last book, the REST theme is found: in Numbers, Kings, Psalm, Proverbs, to name a few, and other Old and New Testament books, ending in the book of Revelation in Rev. 14:11 where we are reminded that “There is no REST day or night for those who worship the beast and his image, or for anyone who receives the mark of his name.” In fact, the word REST and its variations appear more than 90 times in the Bible. Though the main theme may be physical in nature, in many cases it is used in a spiritual sense. One recurring example is the use of REST as meaning peace, trust, hope, or patience like in Psalm 37: 7 where we read “Rest in the Lord (some versions say “Be still before the Lord); wait patiently for him to act. Don’t be envious of evil men who prosper.”  Or, in Psalm 62: 1 and 62:5 where we read: “My soul finds REST in God alone; my salvation comes from Him” and “Find REST, O my soul in God alone; my hope comes from Him.” It is in that spirit that I invite you to meditate with me on the theme of “Resting in the Lord.”

Point is: though prayer can release our tensions in times of emotional stress, trusting God to be our rock, rescuer, defense, and fortress changes our entire outlook on life. No longer are we held captive by hurtful treatment from friends and relatives.

In Matthew 11: 28-30 we read: “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you REST. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find REST for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.”
A yoke is a heavy wooden harness that fits onto one or more oxen. It is attached to a piece of equipment the oxen are to pull. So, we have the picture of physical labor. When an ox wears a yoke, it means that the animal is ready for a long day of hard work. However, the “heavy yoke” Jesus mentioned here can mean many things: 1) the burden of sin, 2) the burden of the law (the excessive demands of the religious leaders), 3) government oppression, 4) Mental and emotional challenges, 5) Spiritual challenges and weariness in the search, and service, of God, to name a few. Jesus frees people from all these burdens. The REST He promises is peace with God, not the end of all physical effort. As we read in 1 John 5:3 “This is love for God to obey his commands. And His commands are not burdensome.” Christ’s servants can find REST and refreshment in fellowship with Him.

I am reminded of Paul’s vision and his thorn in 2 Cor. 12:9 “But He said to me ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.’  Therefore, I will boast all the more gladly about my weakness, so that Christ’s power may REST on me.”

Although God did not remove Paul’s physical affliction, He promised to demonstrate His power in Paul. The fact that God’s power shows up in weak people should give us courage. If we recognize our limitations, we will not congratulate ourselves. Instead, we will faithfully turn to God to seek pathways for effectiveness. We must rely on God – REST in God – for our effectiveness rather than our simple energy, effort, or talent. Our weakness not only helps develop Christian character, it also deepens our worship, for in admitting our weakness we affirm God’s strength.

Let us pray.  Loving God, we praise your Holy Name. We acknowledge that too often we fall short of your expectations, forgive us we pray. Guide and direct us O God. In these difficult times that we live, we depend on you, we depend on the REST that you and only you can give. Even as you inspire and empower us, may we learn never to lean on our own understanding, but in everything to acknowledge You and let You guide our path. May we find REST, be it physical, mental, emotional or spiritual, in You, Jehovah Shalom, the God of all peace. In the mighty name of Jesus we pray. Amen and Amen.

Written By Rev. Franck Aguilh

I remember a conversation with someone who told me that every January feels heavy. Not because they are afraid of what is coming, but because of what is still following them. They said, “Every new beginning reminds me of what I did not finish, what I did not fix, what I meant to do differently.” They were not looking for advice nor asking for a solution. They were naming a truth many of us live with. Starting over sounds hopeful, but it can also feel exposing.

There are times when the soul tires of carrying its own history. Not the good moments, but the difficult ones. The choices we replay. The prayers we intended to pray. The roads we swore we would never walk again, yet somehow did. When we reach passages like Isaiah 55, we are not seeking inspiration. We are questioning if God is still willing.
“Turn to the Lord,” the prophet says. Not to explain yourself or clean yourself up, not to make promises about never failing again, but simply to turn. To face God again, just as you are. That simple movement, that quiet reorientation of the heart, is met not with judgment but with mercy.

Mercy is not a shallow act of kindness. It is not God sighing and letting things go. Mercy is God leaning forward toward us. Mercy is forgiveness given freely, without bargaining. The kind of forgiveness that leaves no receipt.

Isaiah reminds us that God’s thoughts are not our thoughts. That matters because our thoughts often say, “I should know better by now.” God’s thoughts say, “Come back.” Our ways rehearse shame. God’s ways make room for return.

Starting again is not about acting like the past never happened. God does not wipe our memory clean but works through it, redeeming what has already been lived. Grace falls like rain on soil that has been dry for a long time, soaking in slowly. Beneath the surface, seeds are breaking open where no one can see the work taking place. And with that breaking comes new life, not rushed or forced, but growing quietly, rising when it is ready.
That slow, hidden work looks different in each of us. Some of us reach for a fresh start because hope is stirring. Others reach for it because we are tired and have nothing left to carry. God does not ask us to sort out our reasons. God meets us where we are, with the same grace. You do not have to be strong to begin again. You just have to be willing to take the next faithful step, turn toward God, and trust God for what comes next.

And this is it: Isaiah ends with joy breaking out in places that were quiet. Mountains singing. Trees clapping. Creation responds to mercy as if it has been waiting for this moment. That tells us something. When we start again with God, it is never just about us. Grace ripples outward, bringing life where things have been quiet and reminding others that beginning again is possible.

Hear this: starting again is beautiful because God is in it. God walks with us through the awkward first steps, the uncertainty, the fear of repeating old patterns. God does not rush us but stays. And that is enough.

Pray with me: Merciful God, I bring you the parts of my life that feel worn and unfinished. I turn toward you again, not with answers, but with trust. Thank you for meeting me with grace instead of judgment. Give me the courage to begin again today, knowing you walk with me. Amen.

Written by Rev. Kay Dubuisson

The other day, I stood in a room I know well. Nothing was new, yet everything felt different. I noticed the scuff on the wall I had stopped seeing. The chair that once felt comfortable now felt worn. A few things still belonged. Others had stayed simply because they always had. I realized I had been living around them without ever asking whether they still served the life I am in now.

That is what the start of a new year can feel like. Not a clean slate, but a clear look. Scripture speaks to moments like this. Moments when God slows us down just enough to notice what we have been carrying. When the familiar is no longer invisible. When the Spirit invites us to look honestly, not with judgment, but with truth.

That is where Paul’s words meet us. Paul is not talking about self-improvement. He is talking about renovation.

If you have ever watched a renovation show, you know how it goes. The homeowners think they need new paint or better furniture. Then the walls come down, old wiring is exposed, and hidden damage is revealed. What seems fine at first often requires more extensive work. Renovation usually goes farther than expected. No matter how much updating, restoring, or improving the existing structure with cosmetic or functional changes—such as paint, new fixtures, or appliances—without altering its fundamental layout, renovation aims to preserve the existing framework.

That is what Paul means when he says to put off the old self. The old self is not just bad habits or obvious mistakes. Sometimes it is survival mode. Sometimes it is how we learned to protect ourselves when life was hard. Sometimes it is the version of you that kept going when you had no other choice. That self helped you survive, but it is not meant to be your permanent address.

Putting off the old self does not mean pretending the past never happened. It means acknowledging that God has done new work since then. It means admitting that what once kept you safe may now be keeping you stuck.

The new self, Paul describes, is already being formed. Created to be like God. Shaped by truth. Rooted in holiness that looks more like wholeness than perfection. This new self grows when we tell the truth about what we are carrying, when we stop calling exhaustion normal, when we stop confusing familiarity with faithfulness.

Renovation is messy. Things get moved. Dust gets kicked up. You realize how much you were holding without noticing. But renovation also creates space. Light comes in. Breath returns. Movement becomes easier.

As this year begins, God may not be asking you to do more. God may be asking you to live lighter.
•What needs to be cleared out so your spirit can breathe again?
•What belief about yourself no longer matches who God says you are?
What are you still carrying that God has already released?

Whatever it is, know that you are not starting from scratch. You are starting from grace.

Pray with me: God of new beginnings, help me release what no longer fits the life you are shaping in me. Give me courage to let go, patience with the process, and trust in your steady work. Make room in me for what is new. Amen.

Written by Rev. Kay Dubuisson

When I think about leadership, especially church leadership, my mind often goes to responsibility, decision-making, and the weight of getting it right. Leadership can feel heavy. It can feel exposed. And, it can feel exhausting, especially at the end of a year like this one. As we close out 2025, a year that has held more than its fair share of challenges, change, and uncertainty, I’ve been reflecting on what faithful leadership looks like in the life of the church. That reflection led me to Paul’s words in 1 Thessalonians 2:1-8, a passage often titled Paul’s Ministry in Thessalonica, but one that speaks clearly to leadership and service in the church today.

Paul begins by naming courage. He reminds the community that declaring the gospel required boldness, even in the face of great opposition. Leadership and service are rarely the easiest path. It takes courage to follow God when the road is unclear, when the work is complicated, and when the outcomes are uncertain. Paul also reminds us of what we are carrying. The gospel. Good news. In every expression of discipleship, however it shows up, the message we carry is meant to be good news. When we stay focused on bringing good news to people, our neighbors, and our community, we remain rooted in the mission of God. That grounding feels especially important to remember as we stand at the threshold of a new year.

But Paul does not stop at courage. He moves quickly to building community. He speaks of care, of gentleness, and of sharing not only the gospel of God, but his very life. Leadership, in Paul’s vision, is deeply relational. It is not something done from a distance. It is a shared life. Leadership in the church is never a solo act. It requires trust, prayer, and a willingness to lean on one another. Our Leadership Board embodies this kind of shared responsibility as they steward the life of The Mark with care and discernment. Their work is faithful and often unseen, but it is essential to who we are.

At the same time, this reflection is not only about the Leadership Board, or those whose names appear on church letterhead. It is about the whole community. It is about the people whose service is quiet and consistent, but no less vital to the life of this church. It is about the men who serve our neighbors food, rain or shine, in the heat of summer and the cold of winter. It is about those who welcome members and guests with warm smiles and open hearts on Sunday mornings. It is about those who prepare and serve meals, show up for Freedom School, care for our children, tend to the building, and meet needs before they are ever named.

Every single act of service in this community matters. Each one is an equal and necessary part of who we are. We are sustained not by a few visible leaders, but by a whole body of people who choose, again and again, to show up in love.

As this year comes to a close, I am deeply grateful for every person who serves at The Mark, in ways seen and unseen. May we continue into the new year grounded in courage, committed to one another, and confident that God is at work in every faithful act of love.

Prayer
Gracious God,
We thank you for every person who serves in this community.
For leaders who discern, for hands that serve, for hearts that notice and respond.
Bless the work that is done quietly and faithfully, and strengthen us for the year ahead.
Help us to lead with courage, live in community, and share not only the good news of your love, but also our lives with one another.
Amen.
Written by Jennifer Nelson

Let’s take a step back in time and recall the first Christmas etched in the recesses of our memories. The excitement of witnessing the preparation of delicacies, begging to wipe the cake batter pan with our fingers, please, hearing the rustling of wrapping paper, and the distinct smell of the ham baking in the oven. Waiting with great expectation for the break of dawn when, miraculously, gifts would appear under a homemade dyed-green fir tree; after all, we were in the Caribbean. At the age of three or four, I could not have known then that all households were not “created equal.”

In my present experience, when the gentle glow of Christmas lights fills our home and the melodies of the season lift our hearts, yes, and the ham is baking in the oven, we’re reminded that Christmas is much more than a holiday. It’s the celebration of Jesus, God’s indescribable gift to us (2 Corinthians 9:15). The spirit of Christmas is one of awe, humility, and overflowing joy, rooted in the miracle of Christ’s birth and God’s deep love for humanity.

Set to timeless music, Handel’s Messiah beautifully gives voice to this spirit. When we hear the soaring Hallelujah Chorus proclaiming, “For the Lord God omnipotent reigneth,” inspired by Revelation 19:6, our hearts can’t help but rejoice. The message woven throughout Messiah is straight from Scripture: Jesus is Emmanuel, God with us (Matthew 1:23). He is “Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace” (Isaiah 9:6).

The true Christmas spirit is the praise Handel's music so beautifully expresses, worship that springs from gratitude for God’s grace. It’s the peace we feel because Christ has come, and the joy we share as we remember the angel’s announcement:
 “I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all the people” (Luke 2:10).

But Christmas is not confined to a calendar date, winter decorations, or banquets. When we embrace its spirit, we carry its message of hope, love, and praise into every day. We rejoice in the Lord who reigns, just as the “Hallelujah Chorus” declares, and let His peace guide our hearts all year.

Let the spirit of Christmas linger long after we have sung the last song. Echo Handel’s jubilant chorus not just with our voices, but with our lives, living in wonder, offering kindness, and praising God for the gift of Jesus.

Prayer:
Loving Father, thank You for the gift of Your Son and the everlasting joy He brings. May the spirit of Christmas fill our hearts year-round, so our lives may echo a hallelujah of praise to You. Amen.
 Written by Gregory Harewood

On the last Sunday of November, the 5th Sunday of St. Mark’s 145th anniversary celebration, families and friends, young and old – the St. Mark’s Faith Community – gathered for a vibrant service which included the participation of the Choralaires and the Celestial choirs. I was happy to see so many people whom I have not seen in such a long time. The 145th Anniversary theme “A Family Reunion: Faith, Family, Freedom, and Future” came alive. As I look back at the effusion of joy present in the church during these two hours of worship, and the following time of fellowship and breaking bread together, the idea of community became a reality, and my mind journeyed to the passage above from the book of Exodus. I am inviting you to meditate with me on our faith community; how can we grow and strengthen it.

Soon after the Israelites’ deliverance, Moses got a visit from his father-in-law Jethro. The gist of their conversation can be found in Exo. 18: 17-18. “What you are doing is not good” Jethro said to Moses. “You and these people who come to you will only wear yourselves out. The work is too heavy for you; you cannot handle it alone.” Moses was spending so much time and energy hearing the Hebrews’ complaints that he could not get to other important work. Jethro suggested that Moses delegates most of this work to wise men set as leaders over groups of people thus setting him free to oversee the more important cases that he alone could handle. Delegation relieved Moses’ stress and improved the quality of the people’s lives as well, physically and spiritually.

God designed us for community. In 1Thessalonians 5:11 we read “Encourage one another and build each other up, just as in fact you are doing.” Jesus himself demonstrated the importance of community through the maintenance of a close group of disciples. We need God first and foremost, but we need others too – to lean on and to allow them to help lift us up. It can be uncomfortable and hard to accept that we need others, especially when we realize that our church is made of imperfect people. But when we downplay the collective nature of our faith, we do ourselves and our church a disservice.

Pastor Kay made a strong case for the power of community in her 11/30 sermon when she shared about the personal situation involving her family and her reliance on “others” to carry on with the needs of the church during her absence, including  the leadership of the 145th anniversary committee in coordinating the many events in a way that is nothing short of great, possibly because she could not be involved.

Wonderful things can happen when we rely on one another: our bonds of relationship are strengthened, and we give others the opportunity to show God’s love to us.   This, unfortunately, cannot take place when we become Christers, members who are present in church only for Christmas and Easter, or when we become members whose connection to the church is merely a listing on the membership roll, which guarantees us the availability of the church when there is a need for a baptism, a wedding, or more importantly a funeral.
COVID has ushered in the era of Worship on-line, and even though COVID is no more, church members have replaced the community that is the church family in worship with the convenience of on-line-worship. It is important to remember that as it is written in the United Methodist Church Hymnal, #558: “The church is not a building, the church is not a steeple, the church is not a resting place, the church is a people. I am the church, you are the church, we are the church together.”

In big and small moments, let’s commit to being together, loving those around us, and letting others love us in return in an organic community of faith as God had designed it to be from the very beginning. In so doing, we can be part of ushering God’s kingdom in a small or, in a major way, according to His will for us.    

Let us pray.  Gracious and Loving God, Omniscient, Omnipotent, and Omnipresent Creator of the universe, and all that is in it, we praise your Holy Name.  We thank you for the community of believers. Help us dear God, to lean on you as we not only lift others up but allow them to lift us up as well, to reach out to others who may need our love, and help us to accept love in return. May no one stand alone. May we stand side by side working together at whatever the task required for the  building your kingdom here on earth. Thank you for designing us for community. In Jesus name we pray. Amen and Amen.

By Rev. Franck Aguilh

Mary sings because of a Child. Not a royal child wrapped in privilege, but a holy Child wrapped in promise. This Child is the reason her voice rises even when her life feels uncertain. He turns fear into courage and waiting into worship. Before he ever takes his first breath, he teaches her how to praise again.

As we sit with her song, we settle into our own longings. This season often stirs a quiet ache. We long for the perfect gathering, the perfect gifts, the perfect peace inside our homes and inside our hearts. When things fall short of that dream, our spirit slips toward frustration or disappointment, and the season feels heavier than it should.

But Mary’s song interrupts all of that with a fresh truth. Her praise rises not because everything is tidy or predictable, but because a Child is coming who will steady the world. God’s mercy arrives in surprising places. God’s answers do not always match what we prayed for, but match what we need.

This truth becomes clearer when we see it through real stories. A woman once shared that her most memorable Christmas was the one where nothing went right. Her flight was canceled. Her luggage vanished. The meal burned. She sat on the kitchen floor, ready to cry until her little niece crawled over, leaned her head on her shoulder, and whispered, “Auntie, it’s still going to be good because we’re here together.” That simple act from a child shifted her whole heart. They laughed, made sandwiches, and sang carols off-key around a bent tree.

Later, she said, “This wasn’t the Christmas I planned, but it was the Christmas that healed me.”
One small voice, one little presence, helped her sing again. God still uses children to unlock joy.

That brings us home at The Mark. I want to speak to the ones moving through December with tired spirits. You carry worries about your health, your children, your aging parents, your finances, your future, and the changes shaping our church. You show up with faith even when your heart feels thin.

Hear this. The God who gave Mary a song is giving you one too. A Child has come into the world, and that Child still teaches us how to sing when life feels uncertain. If you are grieving, lonely, stretched thin, or unsure of what comes next, hold this close to your heart: you are not forgotten.

God is doing mighty things even when the progress seems slow. Strength is rising quietly among us. Mercy is moving through our pews. Hope is humming under the surface. And joy, like a child tugging at your sleeve, is trying to get your attention again. Hold on, my friend. The Child who made Mary sing is the same Child who is trying to teach us our song.

Mary’s posture becomes our guide. She shows us how to let joy grow in unlikely places. She shows us how to trust God’s hand when the road ahead is unclear. And she reminds us that heaven sent a Child not just to save us, but to steady us. So we breathe. We soften our shoulders. We listen. The Child is still near. And if we listen closely, we might hear the beginning of our own song rising.

Prayer: Lord, you sent a Child who makes our weary hearts sing again. Teach us to recognize your mercy in the middle of ordinary days. Help us trust the quiet strength that grows from your presence. Let joy rise in us the way it rose in Mary. Amen.

Written by Rev. Kay Dubuisson 

We have just stepped into the season of Advent, a time when the church slows its breathing and leans toward the promise of Christ. Advent is the doorway to a new year in the life of faith. It invites us to wait with intention, to watch for light in places that feel dim, and to trust that God is already moving toward us with hope, peace, joy, and love. This season reminds us that even when the world feels unsettled, God is bringing something new to birth. Advent teaches us to stay expectant. It calls us to keep our hearts tuned to the One who comes to heal, restore, and guide us into a future filled with possibility.

As we enter this sacred stretch of waiting, our hearts turn first toward Hope. Hope is the spark that rises before anything else. Hope steadies us when the world feels uncertain and reminds us that God is still moving. And as Hope rises in us, something else begins to settle. Peace. Not as an afterthought, but as the quiet strength that grows when trust takes root. Hope opens the door. Peace walks us through it.

Hope does not arrive dressed in glitter. It often comes to us in the middle of the mess, when the night feels too long and our strength feels thin. Hope shows up anyway. It leans in close and whispers, Keep going.

Many of us are pressing through something right now. Grief that will not settle. News that refuses to make sense. Trouble that stays louder than prayer. And on top of that, this season has its own weight. The holiday slump creeps in. The Christmas blues circle around. For some, the memories of what used to be sit heavier than the celebration in front of them. Advent meets us in that honest place where joy feels distant and it is hard to see beyond hope. Even then, hope does not let go.

Advent does not pretend away any of this. Instead, Advent names it and says, Even here, God draws near.

So, press through the difficulties you face at this time. Things are not always what they look like in the moment. Do not lose heart. Do not sink into the heaviness that tries to drag you down. Lift your chin a little. Draw one more breath. Tell your own soul, Hope is not canceled. God has a way of turning what feels like an ending into a doorway. Keep an open mind. Keep an open heart. The Spirit is steady beside you, showing you the way of progression, even when you feel stuck.

Isaiah gives us a picture to hold. “Open the gates, that the righteous nation which keeps the truth may enter in. You will keep him in perfect peace, whose mind is stayed on You, because he trusts in You.” Isaiah 26:2-3

When your mind stays on God, peace rises in you like a shield. Not thin peace. Not polite peace. Perfect peace. Peace that guards your thoughts when your thoughts start to spiral. Peace that steadies your pulse when everything around you shifts. Peace that reminds you that trusting God still works.

And before we close, hear this. Hope is not asking you to pretend you are fine. Hope is asking you to believe that God is not finished. Hope is the courage to take the next small step. Hope is the strength to trust that what you see now is not all there will be. Advent Hope is the promise that God is still writing your story, and the next chapter holds more light than the last one.

Advent Hope calls you to imagine the gates opening right in front of you. Not because everything is easy, but because God is faithful. Walk through those gates with trust. Walk through with expectation. Walk through with the quiet confidence that you will not be abandoned in this season or any season to come.

May hope hold you upright.
May peace settle upon you.
May you feel God’s hand guiding you forward. Amen.

Written by Rev. Kay Dubuisson

“Give thanks to the Lord, for He is good; His love endures forever. Let the redeemed of the Lord tell their story, those he redeemed from the hand of the foe,”
Psalm 107:1-2.

Expressing gratitude to God is a beautiful act of worship. When we pause to recognize and praise God for all that He has done for us and for all that He has promised to do, from simple joys to extraordinary blessings, our hearts must be filled with awe and humility. Yet in the rhythm of busy days, we sometimes overlook and fail to acknowledge the countless ways God cares for us and delivers on His promise that we will never be left out nor forsaken in our time of need.  How then can we best give God thanks, not only with our words, but with our whole lives?

First and foremost, we give thanks in our fervent worship. We give thanks with our words. Let us not hesitate to speak loudly or to give thanks to God in prayer, in song, or even in conversation with like-minded brothers and sisters who share the experience of God's love and grace, for by our witness, those hearing may be drawn into the circle of believers. When we acknowledge God's goodness in the presence of others, it brings Him glory and encourages those listening towards a fulfilling experience. Try starting and ending your day by thanking God for every blessing, specific blessings, tangible and intangible, requested or granted in anticipation. Remember that God alone knows the issues of our hearts. We may all give thanks for self-actualization, for where God has brought us from, or perhaps where He has delivered us out of. Why not give Him thanks for all the plans He has for us?

 We have to live in thankfulness daily. We know that thankfulness is a choice, even when life feels ordinary or complex, we can find reasons to be grateful. Practicing gratitude shifts our perspective from what we lack or what we perceive ourselves to be lacking to what God has given us. Consider journaling on gratitude, regarding how God provides and perhaps surprises you each day. This may help you examine the trust and faith that God is your best friend, a provider in times of need, a healer in times of sickness, and a waymaker when life’s roadmap seems incomplete.

As we give thanks to God for what we have received, we are also called to share generously with others. We call to share our time, talents, encouragement, and resources. When we give out of our grateful hearts, we reflect God's love to those around us.

“Do not forget to do good and to share with others, for with such sacrifices God is pleased.” Hebrews 13:16
Let your thanks overflow in acts of kindness and generosity.

Service to others is a beautiful way to express gratitude for all that God has done. When we lend a helping hand, extend comfort to a friend, or volunteer our time, we are showing that we recognize God's blessings and want to be a blessing in return. Each act of service, no matter how small, is an offering of thanksgiving. We must be mindful that every seed we sow must be nurtured for it to grow.

Finally, the most profound gratitude or the most fantastic thanksgiving ever is shown in and by our faith. Thanking God and trusting His Lordship, before the request is made, even before you see the answer, even before the gift is received. This faith that we live is the most powerful act of worship. It says, "God, we believe you are good, and we know your plans for us are loving, wise, kind, and gentle." I know that you are a promise keeper, way maker, our light in the darkness, and that your love has no boundary.

So, may our hearts be flooded with gratitude for all that God has given. As we speak, live, share, serve, and trust, may our living be a continual song of thanks, bringing joy to our Heavenly Father.

HAPPY THANKSGIVING!!!

Written by Gregory Harewood

Last Saturday morning I led our group through the study of the Lectionary Gospel scripture: Luke 21: 5-19 that dealt with the signs of the end of the age. As Jesus was predicting what was going to happen to the temple, the disciples were anxious to know when the destruction will happen, and what are the signs that they were about to take place. Three important lessons were taught to the disciples, and us, through this passage.

1) Beware of false prophets who will come in His name to deceive many, and claim that the time is near. “Do not follow them” Jesus said. (V. 8)
2) Keep the faith. Do not to worry beforehand about how you will defend yourselves when falsely attacked and persecuted because of Him. “I will give you words and wisdom that none of your adversaries will be able to resist or contradict.” (Vs 14-15).
3) Stand firm. You will be fine. “Not a hair of your head will perish. By standing firm you will gain life.” (Vs. 18-19)

Giving what is going on now in the world, and even more so what is going on right here, right now, in the United States: the cruelty, the violence upon the least among us, be it physical, emotional, psychological, or even economical, I would like to invite you to meditate with me on the third bullet above as we try to answer the following questions: “Did Jesus promise complete physical protection? How do people of faith endure tough times?
I will venture to say No to the first question. In fact, He told of coming persecutions: believers would be hated, persecuted by religious and political leaders, betrayed even by family members and friends; and some would even be killed. Think of James in Acts 12: 1-2, Peter in Acts 12:3-5, Stephen in Acts 6: 8-15, 7:54-60 and many other apostles who suffered beatings, imprisonment, and death, even beheaded because of their faith.

But, at the same time Jesus promised that not a hair of your head will perish. How does that square with the prediction of persecution? It was a figurative way of saying that though their earthly bodies could be killed, their spirits would live forever. If they remained true to the faith, they would be ensured of life everlasting (V.19). The point is that while we are focusing on the physical, Jesus’ primary focus was on the spiritual results, not on the physical outcome. That is why though Christian martyrs have been beheaded, “not a hair of their heads perished.”

Romans 8:37 reminds us that “in all things we are more than conquerors through Him who loved us.” We cannot balance physical reality with spiritual reality. On the cross, it looked like Jesus was overcome. In reality, He was the overcomer. The moment he died, He took away the power of the one who held the power of death (Heb. 2:14). He taught the disciples that they would have to lose their lives to really live (Luke 9:24), that they could only be great by becoming slaves. Such ideas seem to be contradictions because we see things from the physical realm. But the fact is that even in death, in Christ we win. In Christ we overcome. Jesus puts it this way in John 16:33 “I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.”

So, how do people of faith endure tough times? By remaining faithful and living in hope. By looking at life through spiritual lenses instead of physical lenses. The book of Revelations reminds us in so many ways that if we remain faithful, we shall overcome, and shall receive the earned reward. The word overcome appears nine times in the book of Revelations. Take a moment to read these verses. Rev. 2: 7, 11, 17, 26; 3: 5, 12, 21; 17:14, 21:7. Here is a sample from Rev. 3:5 “He who overcomes will, like them, be dressed in white. I will never blot out his name before my Father and His angels.” Rev. 3:21 “To him who overcomes I will give the right to sit with me on my throne, just as I overcame and sat down with my Father on His throne.” To endure tough times, we must be overcomers. Are you an overcomer?

Let us pray. Gracious and Holy God, God of gods, Lord of lords, Savior of saviors, we praise and glorify your name.  We give you thanks O God for all that you have done and continue to do in our lives, even unbeknown to us. Help us God to trust you and to keep the faith, even when we are facing tough times, confident that because you have overcome,
we also shall overcome. Our strength is in you. Teach us O Mighty God, not to lean on our own understanding, but to acknowledge you in all our ways and let you direct our path. In Jesus name we pray. Amen and Amen.

By Rev. Franck Aguilh

This week’s devotion, written by Rev. Gina Yeske, speaks right into the season we are walking through as a church and as a community. Life stretches us in ways we do not expect, and some days the weight feels real. Still, these words remind us that even when things feel uncertain, God is steady. God is moving in quiet places, planting hope where we cannot yet see it. As you read, may you feel encouraged to hold on, stay rooted in grace, and trust that God is shaping something good in and around us. Enjoy the devotion below.
Life has a way of testing us. Sometimes it feels like everything around us is unraveling—our families, our congregations, our communities, even the world we thought we could understand. And yet, even in the midst of uncertainty, God is at work. God is quietly making new life where we cannot always see it, and the grace of God unfolds every single day.

So, we’re not giving up. How could we! These hard times are small potatoes compared to the good things God has in store—the lavish celebration prepared for us. There’s far more here than meets the eye. The things we see now are here today, gone tomorrow. But the things we cannot see now will last forever. 2 Corinthians 4:16-18 (MSG)

There is so much happening around us. Many of you and your families are navigating struggles, loss of loved ones, serious illnesses, surgeries, accidents, relational difficulties, financial pressures, and job insecurity. At the same time, our congregations, communities, denomination, nation, and world face challenges that can feel overwhelming. So how do we face these difficulties and not fall apart?

Stay close to God and close to one another. Set aside intentional time to spend with God: read a daily devotion, pray, journal, and reflect on scripture. Worship God, even and especially in the hard times. Make worship attendance a priority and praise God for your blessings, big and small.

Be kind to yourself. Self-care is a necessity, not an option. Rest, do the things you love, and add something healthy to your routine. Even in demanding seasons, take the time to find moments of joy and fun.

Care for your relationships. Reach out to someone by phone, visit in person, or walk with a friend. Connection matters.

Even in the midst of uncertainty and struggle, we can take heart. Life may feel heavy, and today’s troubles are real, yet God is at work in ways we cannot see. Keep your eyes open for small signs of hope, unexpected moments of joy, and the quiet ways God is shaping life around us. Hope does not ignore the troubles around us, but it is not consumed by it; it steadies us, allowing us to face today with courage and trust in God’s presence every step of the wa

 Prayer: Loving God, precious Jesus, powerful Spirit, be with us in this season of the unknown. Give us patience to wait for your guidance, courage to step out when needed, and hearts that put
love first. Amen

Written by Rev. Gina Yeske

The Book of Proverbs is part of the Old Testament’s wisdom literature, a collection of divinely inspired practical advice for living a virtuous life. Its central message is: “The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom” and that godly wisdom shapes one’s character, decisions, relationships, knowledge and discipline. King Solomon is credited with being the primary author of this collection.

As we walk through the opening verses of Proverbs 22, we are reminded of what matters most in the eyes of God. “A good name is to be chosen rather than great riches, and favor is better than silver or gold.” (V. 1)

In a world that prizes wealth, status, and image, the Lord calls us to value integrity and character above all. Our reputation is a reflection of our heart, a heart shaped by kindness, honesty, and a steadfast walk with God.

Verse 2 tells us, “Rich and poor have this in common: the Lord is the maker of them all.”
No matter our station in life, or circumstance every person is beloved and hand-crafted by God. We are knit together in His image, united more by our Creator than divided by our circumstances. This truth humbles us and calls us to treat everyone we meet with dignity and respect.

These verses also encourage wise and thoughtful living: “The prudent see danger and take refuge, but the simple keep going and pay the penalty.” (v. 3)

God's wisdom guides us not only to honesty but also to caution and discernment. Choices have consequences, and seeking wisdom protects us from unnecessary harm.
Humility and respect run like golden threads through these verses.
“Humility is the fear of the Lord; its wages are riches and honor and life.” (v. 4)
True humility is not thinking less of ourselves, but thinking of ourselves less, and placing God at the center. When our hearts are reverent before Him, He blesses us in ways greater than material wealth.

These verses remind us, too, about relationships, generosity, and compassion. (v. 9)
Verse 9 offers a beautiful encouragement: “The generous themselves will be blessed, for they share their food with the poor.”

God Delights in kindness and sharing. When we give from the heart, we reflect the generous love He pours out on us each day.

As we meditate on Proverbs 22: 1 - 9, I let us pray for hearts that treasure integrity, humility, and generosity. Let God shape our names, guide our steps, and open our hands to bless others. These are the riches that truly last. As we consider our day-to-day choices, let us reflect on this one question: What is one tangible way we can value integrity, humility, or generosity above worldly success this week? Ask the Lord to show us how He wants to shape our hearts and actions.

Across the globe there is great suffering among God’s creation. Wars, famine, floods, religious persecution, social unrest born of political ideology, and financial distress caused by backward thinking economic policy. The Thesaurus lists 253 synonyms for the term topsy-turvy, look them up! Let us pray fervently for God to bring relief to this broken world.

Let us pray:
Gracious and loving God,
Thank you for the gentle wisdom of Your Word. Help us to seek a good name and a pure heart above all riches. Teach us to walk in humility, maintaining our integrity, to value every person as your beloved creation and to be generous with what you have entrusted to us. Shape our character to reflect your love and kindness each day. Holy Spirit, guide our actions and words so they may bring honor to you. Let our lives be testimonies, living testimonies to your grace, and may we find love, joy, peace and unity in blessing others. This we pray in Jesus' name. Amen.

As usual, my Saturday morning Bible study group choses a scripture from the Sunday’s Lectionary. We used the 9/14 Gospel lesson from Luke 15:1-10 this past weekend.
 It dealt with the parables of the lost sheep and of the lost coin.  After the first reading the participants tried to respond to the question: Word, Image, or Phrase. That is a short way to ask: what does get your attention after reading/listening to this passage. For me, it was the fact that though it may look foolish for the shepherd to leave the 99 sheep to go search for just one, something that I am sure may have been the thought of many, the 99 were not left unattended. If a sheep was lost, the head shepherd would leave the rest of the flock safe and content with hired helpers, and go search for it. God does not abandon his followers, but he zealously seeks the lost. God’s love for each individual is so great that he seeks each one out and rejoices when he or she is “found.” Jesus’ association with sinners, the reason why the Pharisees and the teachers of the law criticized him, was because he was looking for the lost sheep: sinners who were considered beyond hope – to bring them the Good News of God’s Kingdom. And the Bible tells us that when he found him or her, “he joyfully puts it on his shoulders and goes home. Then he calls his friends and neighbors together and says ‘Rejoice with me; I have found my lost sheep.’”

But, what really get things going among the group members, and what on which I am inviting you to meditate with me is the second question upon which we reflected: “Who are the lost?”

The answers vary in details, but could easily be simplified in two major themes: 1) the lost are generally faithless people. 2) The lost are all of us.

Fact is any one of us at one time or another can find ourselves lost, having lost all faith in everything and everyone around us, though it may not be at the same time. Take a look at what is going on right here, right now, in the country, in the world. Can one truly say that he/she knows where we are and where we are going? Can we truly say that we have any faith in our government, in our leaders, in religion, in our judicial system, or in our authorities? Often enough, these institutions, and even those closer to us can cause us to feel lost. We have a sense of purposelessness, a sense of powerlessness that is pushing us to throw our hands up in the air and give up. The phrase that we will often hear is “I don’t know anymore.”  And that my friends, is exactly what the enemy wants us to do: to give up, to give in. Then, of course, he wins.

Like the shepherd, in the parable of the lost sheep, or like the woman in the parable of the lost coin, God is calling us to be persistent my friends; persistent in our trust, persistent in our faith, persistent in our commitment to love, to justice, to peace. What did we learn from Deuteronomy 31:8?  “The LORD himself goes before you and will be with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged.”  Did not the shepherd leave the 99 in the open country and go after the lost sheep until he finds it? Did not the woman light a lamp, sweep the house and search carefully until she finds her lost coin? God is concerned about every human being he creates. He is not willing that any should perish (2 Peter 3:9). Remember John 3:16 “For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only son that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life.” Never mind the lies, never mind the chaos, never mind the deceptions, KEEP BELIEVING.  

Let us pray.  Loving God, thank you for your mercy, your grace, your love, and your compassion; most of all for your Son Jesus Christ. Strengthen us today that we can follow his example of being poor in spirit in a world that praises power and authority. Help us to always be meek and humble of heart, that we may listen to, and comfort, those who mourn and suffer. And, Lord, walk with us on this journey of faith that we may never cease to hunger and thirst for justice and peace for our fellow pilgrims. Give us the grace today and always O God to follow the example of Jesus, the good shepherd, in whose name we pray. Amen and Amen.

Written by Rev. Franck Aguilh

“Do not let your hearts be troubled. You believe in God; believe also in me.” John 14:1

During my recent trip, on our way back home, we encountered turbulence on the flight. The sky grew dark, the plane shook, and for a few minutes it felt like everything was uncertain. I snapped a few pictures to remember that moment because it reminded me of life itself. We all face storms that shake us, scare us, and leave us wondering when it will be over. That experience became a doorway into this word for today.

When you board a plane, you don’t know what’s ahead. You settle in, buckle up, and trust. Then the turbulence comes. The sky grows dark, the ride turns bumpy, and fear creeps in. But then the captain’s voice breaks through: “Ladies and gentlemen, we’re entering a patch of rough air. Please remain seated with your seatbelts fastened. This aircraft is built to handle conditions like this, and we’ll be through it shortly.”

Notice what the captain says: they name the storm (“rough air is ahead”), they give instructions (“fasten your seatbelt”), they offer assurance (“the plane is built for this”), and they point to hope (“we’ll be through it shortly”). That calm voice doesn’t change the storm, but it changes how you endure it.

Jesus did the same with his disciples. He named the storm; his death was coming. He gave instructions: “Believe in me.” He offered assurance, “I go to prepare a place for you.” And he pointed to hope, “I will come back and take you to be with me.” Just like a captain’s voice steadies a fearful cabin, Jesus’ voice steadies our fearful hearts.

And we need that word today. Storms are battering our communities. Cancer is striking our church family, draining their strength day by day. ICE is tearing families apart, leaving children crying in foster homes and parents grieving in silence in another country. Violence stalks our neighborhoods. Depression and anxiety weigh on our children. Families are unraveling under the stress of bills that never stop coming. And I know something of storms myself. I’ve sat at hospital bedsides where the monitors beep louder than hope, and I’ve prayed through my own nights of uncertainty, wondering if I would see the sunlight again.
But here’s the promise: the Pilot has not left the cockpit. God is steady at the controls. As the psalmist reminds us, “Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for You are with me” (Psalm 23:4). Theologian Reinhold Niebuhr once wrote, “Faith is not belief without proof, but trust without reservation.” That is what Jesus asked of his disciples then, and what he asks of us now. We don’t need to see the end of the storm to know the sun is still shining. The same God who brought resurrection out of crucifixion will bring hope out of our turbulence, too.

The bumps don’t mean the plane is falling; they mean you’re still flying. And your pilot knows exactly where He’s taking you. So don’t just hold your breath waiting for the storm to pass. Hear this: with the bumpy ride, none of the passengers jumped out. They stayed together. That’s what we do – stay together. Keep praying, keep serving, keep loving in the middle of the bumps. The call is not only to survive the turbulence but to keep moving forward in trust, because the pilot has us in His care.

Prayer: Lord, when our bodies ache, when our families fracture, when fear and loss shake us to the core, hold us steady. Remind us, You are our Pilot, guiding us through the storm. Lift us beyond the clouds into the sunlight of Your hope. Amen.

Written by Rev. Kay Dubuisson

Lamentations 3: 19-26

Lately, it has been very difficult for me to watch the news. Even though I like to be aware of what is going on in our world, whether it is on social media or the televised press, I found myself going through a range of negative emotions from helplessness, to sadness, to anger, whenever I consume the current news.

Somehow, they remind me of the conditions that Jeremiah, the weeping prophet, was indeed crying about as he lamented about his homeland. Jerusalem has been destroyed by Babylon in 586 B.C. and her people killed, tortured, or taken captive. He wrote this poem to teach his people that to disobey God is to invite disaster. In Lamentations 2: 11we read: “I have cried until the tears no longer come; my heart is broken, my spirit poured out, as I see what has happened to my people: little children and tiny babies are fainting and dying in the street.” While this may be somewhat limited in the United States, for many of our “homelands,” this is very much what is happening: like in Gaza where the Israel’s genocide, supported by United States’s money and weapons is ongoing, in Ukraine, in Soudan and South Soudan, in Haiti, and many other nations, that is exactly what is ongoing, especially after the decision by the Trump’s administration to end USAID. Children are starving to death, or being killed while trying to get something to eat.

However, in the midst of the darkness of his time, Jeremiah spoke about hope. In the darkness, the atrocities and the cruelty of our time I pray that we also can speak of the same hope. I invite you to meditate, as I did, on the passage listed above, Lamentations 3:19-26.

  “I remember my affliction and my wandering, the bitterness and the gall. I well remember them, and my soul is downcast within me. Yet this I call to mind and therefore I have hope. Because of the LORD’s great love we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness. I say to myself, ‘The LORD is my portion; therefore, I will wait for him.’ The LORD is good to those whose hope is in him, to the one who seeks him; it is good to wait quietly for the salvation of the LORD.”
 You see, while everything was falling apart around him, Jeremiah had hope of better days to come, he had hope of deliverance to come; and this hope was strengthened by two assurances 1) God has been faithful and would continue to be faithful. 2) God’s compassion never ends.

Are you going through some things? As you pray for deliverance, 1) Never forget that God is able. 2) Never lose hope in the LORD. 3) Wait patiently on God.
Hoping in God implies both trust and patience. Trust involves confidence in God’s power to deliver and faith that he will keep his promises. Hoping in the LORD also implies the patience to wait for God’s promises to become reality, as God works according to his own timing. It is said that God may not come when we want, but he is always on time.
Hope = Trust + Patience.
DELIVERANCE = Hoping in + Waiting on, the LORD.    

Let us pray.  Omniscient, Omnipotent, Omnipresent God, we bless your Holy Name. We give you thanks O God, for all that you have done, and all that you are doing in our lives, even now. You promised that you will never leave us or forsake us, and true to your word, you never did. Regardless of what we are going through, we know that we can count on you to be there with us, even if we don’t see it, even if we don’t feel it.  Strengthen our faith and give us the patience which are the pillars of our hope that our deliverance is coming. We believe that indeed your nature is unchanging. We believe that you are the same forgiving God, that you are the same compassionate God,  that you are the same forever faithful God. Give us the strength to endure until our deliverance comes, as we are sure that just as we are praying this prayer, that it will come in your time. Thank you, God, for your grace, thank you, God, for your mercies, thank you, God, for your enduring faithfulness. Be ever present with us, we pray, in the matchless name of Jesus the Christ. Amen and Amen

Written by Rev. Franck Aguilh

“Immediately, Jesus reached out his hand and caught him. ‘You of little faith,’ he said, ‘why did you doubt?’” Matthew 14:31

Life has a way of throwing us into deep water when we least expect it. Some storms roar with grief and loss. Others are quieter but just as heavy: uncertainty about the future, a family member you can’t fix, or the relentless weight of responsibility.

Peter knew that kind of tension. For one breathtaking moment, he walked on water. Imagine the wind whipping at his face, the spray of the sea on his skin, and his heart pounding as he realized he was doing the impossible. Then his eyes flickered to the storm. The wind grew louder than his faith. The waves looked taller than his trust. And down he went.

But Jesus didn’t let him drown. He reached for him immediately. His words, “You of little faith,” weren’t condemnation but a gentle reminder: You were safe as long as your eyes were on Me.

The wind was still raging when Peter stepped out of the boat. The waves were still high when Jesus stretched out His hand. The storm didn’t stop until they climbed back into the boat together.

This is the truth many of us would rather avoid: Jesus does not always remove the storm immediately. Sometimes the wind keeps howling, the diagnosis doesn’t change, the grief still aches, or the uncertainty lingers. But the storm is never empty, because Jesus steps into it with us.

There’s a reason this moment is in Scripture. Matthew could have just written, “Jesus calmed the storm.” But he shows us something deeper: the miracle is not only that the wind obeys Him, but that we are never left alone to drown.

I remember visiting a member of our church years ago who was going through a battle with cancer. She told me about her first night after the diagnosis. She said, “Pastor, I could hear the storm in my mind—questions, fears, all the what-ifs. I didn’t sleep a wink. But the next night, I prayed, ‘Jesus, if You don’t take the storm away, just sit with me in it.’ And that night, I slept like a baby.”

The storm didn’t vanish overnight. But she had shifted her focus from the waves to the One who walks on water. That made all the difference.
Theologian Søren Kierkegaard once wrote, “Faith sees best in the dark.” Faith doesn’t mean the storm disappears. It means we trust that the hand of Christ will always find us before we go under.

So, when the winds rise in your own life, keep your eyes on the One who is not shaken by the storm. And if your focus slips, if fear or grief starts to pull you down, remember that Jesus is already reaching for you.

Reflection Questions:
1. Where do you see the wind and waves in your own life right now?
2. What would it look like for you to keep your eyes on Jesus this week?

Prayer: Lord, I confess that I get distracted by the wind and waves. I see the bills, the diagnosis, the broken relationship, and I start to sink. Reach for me again. Take my hand and pull me close. Teach me to walk by faith and not by fear. Calm my heart, even if the storm keeps raging. My eyes are on You. Amen.

Written by Rev. Kay Dubuisson

Luke 17:11–19
There were ten of them.

Ten people crying out for mercy. Ten people who had been pushed to the margins. Ten people who had lost not only their health but also their homes, their jobs, their families, and their communities. That’s what leprosy did. It didn’t just destroy your body; it erased your place in society.

When they saw Jesus, they cried out to him for mercy. When Jesus saw them, he didn’t heal them on the spot. Instead, he told them to go and show themselves to the priests. Before you could re-enter society, Jewish law required that a priest had to inspect you and declare you clean. So, all of them started walking toward the temple, even though they were still infected with leprosy. And somewhere along the way, while they were still walking, they were healed.

All ten were healed, but one of them turned back to praise God. I used to read this story and shake my head at the other nine men. Why didn’t they come back to say thank you? Were they just ungrateful? Had they already forgotten the source of their healing?
But now, I think it’s more complicated than that. They were doing what Jesus told them to do. They were doing what the law required. They were doing what they had been taught their whole lives. Go. Get inspected. Get your life back. They weren’t bad. They were obedient. And maybe that’s the point.

The man who turned back wasn’t just healed. He was different. To start with, he was a Samaritan. He didn’t head to the temple to get his healing validated. Maybe because, as a Samaritan, he knew he wouldn’t be welcome there anyway. Maybe because the priest’s approval didn’t matter as much to him. Maybe because something in his spirit told him that the one who healed him was greater than any temple priest. Whatever the reason, he turned around. And he came back to Jesus. He fell at his feet and raised his voice, not in desperation this time, but in praise.

And Jesus says something to him that he doesn’t say to the others: “Your faith has made you well.”

In the Greek, the word for “well” is sōzō—a word that also means saved. The others were cleansed, physically healed. But this man received something deeper. A healing that went beyond the surface. A healing that made him whole.

So, here’s my question for us this week:
Do we want to be cleansed? Or do we want to be made whole? Do we want skin-deep healing? Or do we want healing that penetrates our hearts?
Are we just following the steps we were taught, checking the boxes of religious life? Or are we willing to break from the crowd, turn back toward Jesus, and throw ourselves into a posture of praise?

Sometimes, praise is the most radical thing we can do.
To pause in the middle of a blessing and say, I know where my help comes from.
To turn back, when everything in the world says, “keep going.”
To come back, not for more, but just to say thank you.
Let me be the one who comes back.
Not just the one who got the job.
Not just the one whose body was healed.
Not just the one who made it through the storm.
But the one who remembers who brought me out.
The one who knows that praise is a gateway to deeper healing.
Let me be the one who doesn’t just want to be cleansed but wants to be made whole.
 
Prayer
Gracious God,
Thank you for seeing and hearing us, even when we feel forgotten.
Thank you for meeting us on the road and offering healing in ways we didn’t expect.
Give us hearts that remember. Teach us to praise you in every circumstance.
Make us whole, not just in body, but in spirit.
Amen.
Written by Jennifer Nelson

When Bobby McFerrin‘s uplifting song “Don’t Worry, Be Happy” hit the airwaves in 1988, it quickly became more than just a catchy tune, it was a worldwide anthem that won three Grammys. Its simple, cheerful melody, and repetitive chorus extend an invitation to let go of your troubles and choose happiness. But is it really possible to silence our worries and embrace joy, especially when life feels overwhelming?
 
Let’s turn to God‘s word for a deeper perspective. In Matthew 6:25–27, Jesus says: “therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Isn't life more than food, and the body more than clothes? Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? Can any of you by worrying add a single hour to your life?“
 
Like the song, but without a melody, Jesus encourages us not to worry. But his invitation is anchored with a wonderful promise: God cares deeply for us. He sees us, loves us, and meets our needs. Ask Abraham who found the ram caught in the thicket, Daniel who survived the lion's den, or even the thief on the cross to whom He promised a berth in Paradise.
 
Worry is a natural human response to uncertainty, our minds race with what-ifs, fear is about tomorrow, and anxieties about things we cannot control. Yet Jesus gently asks us to place our trust today into his hands. When we choose faith over fear, peace over panic, we align ourselves with His steadfast loving heart.
 
“Don’t worry, be happy “is not just catchy advice; it echoes the freedom Christ offers. Philippians 4:6–7 assures us:
“Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.”
 
Happiness, in God’s view, isn’t ignoring life’s hardships, it’s trusting our father with them. We can bring every burden to him in prayer, knowing he listens and cares. Our circumstances may not change overnight, but God’s peace can fill our hearts right now.
 
So today, if worries wear you down pause and remember:
You are precious in God’s sight.
He is bigger than your problems.
He invites you to lay your needs at His feet.    
Live in the expectation of deliverance. HOPE!!!
 
Maybe today all you can do is breathe deeply, whisper a simple, honest prayer, and ask God to help you choose joy over worry. That’s enough! As you lean into Him, let the words of that familiar song remind you:“Don’t worry, be happy.”
 
Let’s pray:
Father, thank you for caring for every detail of our lives. Help us release our worries to you and trust you more. Fill our hearts with your peace and joy today.
Amen.
 
Remember, friends, God is with you. Choose trust. Let happiness, rooted in him, flow freely today and always
 By Gregory L. Harewood